Exactly A Year Ago...

Exactly a year ago I had a bump.

Exactly a year ago I was 4 months pregnant.


Exactly a year ago I had a 2.5 year old full of life and questions.

Exactly a year ago I was a Mummy to one with another on the way.


Exactly a year ago I was without Matt who was away on business.

Exactly a year ago I was missing him and hormonal.


Exactly a year ago I awoke like it was just another day.

Exactly a year ago I realised the day would be with me forever.


Exactly a year ago I went through so many tissues.

Exactly a year ago I couldn't stop crying for a couple of weeks.


Exactly a year ago I walked into the veterinary surgery with my dog.

Exactly a year ago I walked out of the veterinary surgery without my dog.


Exactly a year ago I had to make one of the toughest decisions of my life.

Exactly a year ago I had to have my dog put to sleep.


Exactly a year ago I missed Betty like crazy.

A year on. I still miss her.

Betty Dogface enjoying Bamburgh Beach

NOTE: I just wanted to mark the year anniversary of us losing Betty on my blog as she was a big part of my life. It's not something I will do every year but it was such a tough time being pregnant. Thanks again to all those who supported me last year.

A 2 Year Old's Guide To Losing A Pet

It's been a week today since I was at that vets where they put my 15 year old dog to sleep.

This has upset me more than I ever imagined.

"I miss Betty"

But what about Mini Cheddar?

She had to come to the vets with me as I had no-one to watch her. Neither of us witnessed them putting Betty to sleep. We had all walked into the vets together - Mummy, daughter and pooch...and then MC and I left alone, me just clutching a pile of tissues the vet had handed me along with a lead and Bettys precious collar.

MC asked me as we walked out the vets "What about Betty?"

I couldn't answer. I could barely see through the haze of tears, let alone speak.

MC asked me on the way home in the car "Where is Betty, Mummy?"

I told her that Betty was going on a long holiday.

"When will she be home?"

"She's not coming home sweetie, it's a special holiday" I sniffed.

When we got in the house I was a mess. I dearly wanted to be strong. To hide it from her, but I couldn't. MC just handed me tissues and kept saying "It's okay Mummy, Betty will be home soon".

Then she started playing with her Duplo bricks and built a tall tower.

"Look Mummy, I've built this tower. When Betty sees it she will come home".

Now she still builds towers all the time and places them in front of the picture I have of Betty in the lounge. She talks about Betty a lot and I really hope it stays that way as I do want MC to remember her. She even asked for a photo of her and Betty for her bedroom.

Betty and MC - as seen on her bedside table

What breaks my heart is how our routine has changed and how much MC has noticed. Every morning we would go downstairs together into the kitchen and let Betty outside into the garden. Now, every morning without fail, MC comes into our bedroom and says "Is Betty Dogface downstairs?". She opens the cupboard in the kitchen which once housed 'Betty's biscuits' and says "But there's nothing in here Mummy!". She used to love feeding Betty her dog biscuits.

MC has been sad, standing where Betty's bed once sat and asking where she is but she's not been upset about it as she doesn't really understand.

Although, somehow she knows whenever I look sad or get upset that I need a cuddle and to hear the words "I know...you miss Betty, Mummy" and then gives me a kiss and pats my back.

I think 2 year olds are far more switched on than we sometimes give them credit for.

I'm so thankful for my beautiful girl and how caring she is. I couldn't have got through the last week without her.

Silent Sunday #38

Inspired by

My Dog Is Dead

I didn't know what to title this post. I couldn't come up with the right words. I thought of emotional titles, I thought of heartwarming titles. The thing is, the fact remains.

Bamburgh Beach - 2007

My dog is dead.

Sounds brutal but it's the truth and at the moment I feel so numb it's untrue.

I thought I was prepared for this moment. I'd talked about 'this day' coming and I knew at almost 16 years of age she didn't have long with us but it's hit me badly.

If she'd just died in her sleep of old age I may have been able to handle it better but yesterday morning I was faced with that awful decision in the veterinary surgery - the decision that every pet owner dreads.

I had to put my dog to sleep.

It didn't help that my husband was away down in London and my parents were on holiday - plus I'm pregnant! I felt so alone.

I had to take Mini Cheddar with me as I had no-one to look after her. It didn't help that she was being very 'difficult' so I was trying to talk to the vet between my sobs whilst MC is running around the surgery having removed her wellies!

I know there will be people reading this who are thinking "it's just a dog, get over it". If that's you then please don't comment, I really don't want to hear it.

Sleeping - 2008

Betty was more than a dog, she was a massive part of my life for so long and, even though she was old and didn't run about as much as she used to, the house feels so empty without her.

She was such a loving little dog to those who really knew her. She could be a nasty piece of work when she was younger and she never got on with other dogs, she would regularly see off even the biggest of dogs if they got too close for comfort.

I feel sad that I haven't been able to give her the attention she has needed in these last couple of years of her life. I blogged about Betty at the beginning of the year when I realised how old she was getting. Her quality of life these past 6 months or so had gone downhill fast, she had cataracts and could hardly hear and what finally got her was an infection in her back legs. She was too old to undergo anaesthetic and the pain and lengthy treatment without it was something I couldn't have put her through.

"What would you do?" I asked the vet.

I knew her answer before she even spoke.

Meeting Mini Cheddar - 2009

So at 9.45am yesterday Betty was put to sleep. The thing that upsets me most is that I couldn't be there when she went because of MC. I had to wait in the echoey waiting room and just listen as I heard them shave her leg in preparation for the injection.

I was awake at 5am this morning crying. I'm wracked with guilt about my decision. I know it was for the best but I can't help it, it's one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make.

MC said to me this morning "I miss Betty" (we've told her she's gone on a long holiday and won't be coming back).

"I miss her too, sweetie" I say "I miss her too".

Strange Case Of Dr Mini And Mr Cheddar

I've always been thankful I've been blessed with a lovely, well-behaved toddler. Mini Cheddar is a delight to take out anywhere - especially restaurants and cafes (clearly shares her mummy's love of food) - hasn't had a public tantrum and is genuinely a thoughtful child even at such a tender age.

As from last Thursday evening I'm retracting that statement.

I don't know if it was the fact she'd had a trial at play school in the morning and then crashed out on the sofa in the afternoon but it was as if someone had fed her a bag of pure sugar, whispered nothing but evil thoughts into her delicate ears and told her in true Gladiator style "At my signal, unleash hell".

She wouldn't listen to me, she just laughed when I was stern, she screamed and shrieked at everything, she slammed doors, she kicked the dog and she even hit me!  For a moment I thought Regan MacNeil was in the house.

She's never behaved like this, I was mortified.

Her sleep patterns seem to be changing and last week has seen her pretty much ditch her afternoon nap in favour of 'quiet time'.

She turned 2 in March so maybe it's the 'terrible two's' finally rearing their ugly head and my gorgeously calm little girl is turning into a little monster. I guess I can count myself as lucky that I've escaped it until now.

I'm hoping it's a one-off but I very much doubt it.

As I sat and watched her playing this afternoon I was wondering what was going on inside her adorable little head.  Wondering if she's just ticking away quietly waiting to explode like an atomic bomb of pure naughtiness again.  It's the only way I can describe her outburst last week.

I'm wishing they had meetings for troubled toddlers, like AA meetings, only the kiddos stand up in the circle and babble "My name is Mini Cheddar and it's been 4 days since my last tantrum".  Obviously there would be milk and cookies afterwards.

Whatever it was that fuelled her outburst I'm hoping she remains in her Mini 'Jekyll' Cheddar state for as long as possible because I'm not sure I can cope with Hyde right now.

Revenge Is Sweet

Please don't read this post if you're eating, have just eaten or are about to eat.  Or you can't think about poop!  Although why you'd even be anywhere near a 'Mummy blog' and not be prepared to read about poop is beyond me.

Yes my daughter is still in nappies but thankfully the days of the squirty baby 'korma' poo are over.  Her poos are normal now and every day since that stage passed once she was weaned onto solids I have been grateful.

No more disastrous poo related incidents in the pub at the Sunday carvery with my husband using a specials menu to stop poo dripping onto the floor - true story *shudders with the very thought of the embarrassment*  Maybe I'll blog about that at a later date.

So, any mum will tell you that things rarely go to plan when you're about to embark on a night out with friends.  What's one of them I hear some of you cry?  I know, sometimes nights out can be like rocking horse poop.  Well, I was going out early doors with my best friend the other week and all was going well until I let the dog out.

My husband and I were sat in the lounge playing with my daughter who had just been fed.  I looked out of the patio window to see the dog doing that crouched over shaking thing.  Yes, she was 'shaking like a shitting dog' as the saying goes.

But something wasn't quite right.  I realised she was having a pootastrophe as I now call it.

Our dog, Betty, is 15 and suffering with doggie dementia, bless her.  She appeared to be struggling with a rather large turd that wasn't evacuating as it would normally do.

I ran out to the garden armed with a pair of rubber gloves and some tissue paper.  I get all the glamorous jobs don't I?

I must have frightened the poor pooch because, as I went to grab her, she decided to flip out causing the poo to fly everywhere across her rear-end and stick in her bum fur and then the worst happened...

She sat down on the patio.

It was like a poo massacre!

I was gagging loudly which only caused her to get more stressed out.

What did I do?

I made my husband make up for the last 6 weeks of me waiting on him hand and foot whilst he nursed his broken ankle and I made him clean that crap up!

Watching him hobbling about in the back garden trying to de-turd the dog with a bucket of warm soapy water and a pair of marigolds more than made up for it.

He can still buy me an iPad though.